


Till the End of Time

by spektz42



Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Determination, Flashbacks, Love, M/M, Resurrection, Revenge, Time Skips, revival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 14:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20798243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spektz42/pseuds/spektz42
Summary: Try having Deathstroke live a life without Dick Grayson. That’s impossible, and Slade won’t stand for it.





	Till the End of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by Lana Del Rey's song Blue Jeans and I never wrote a story before and I'm uber excited to share! Let me know what you think :)

Being alone was a concept that Deathstroke the Terminator came to accept in his early days of being the most feared mercenary. His life was dangerous, and he constantly relocated for jobs. When his marriage with Adeline Kane ended abysmally with his oldest son dead, and his other son kidnapped and mute, he came to the realization that he’s one of the few people who benefited from isolation.

Unfortunately, there was one person in particular who didn’t share the same sentiment.

It all started when Deathstroke was contacted by government officials to rescue the President’s daughter from a group of radicals located in a city called Bludhaven. Slade stealthily made his way through the heavily protected territory, knocking a few of the patrolling guards unconscious. After finding the large locked room where the young girl was stashed, everything then, according to Slade, went south.

The girl, Vanessa Price, was blindfolded and tied tightly against a wooden chair, sweating profusely at the sound of Slade’s quiet footsteps. As soon as he was in front of her, smoke filled his vision and then she was gone. He quickly surveyed the area and knew that the only other exit, besides the one he came through, was up. 

Getting to the rooftop didn’t take much effort from Slade when he had a bow staff that did all the work. What surprised him though was a vigilante untying Vanessa with his back turned. Slade quickly got a handgun out of the holster and pointed it at the back of the young man’s head.

“Hand the girl over and leave,” Slade said, menacingly.

The young man quickly turned around shielding the girl with his body, “That doesn’t sound like something I’d do,” he smirked.

“Look, unless you want the girl to be scarred by the sight of your bloody remains, I’d suggest you do as I say.” Slade took a small step forward, his single eye gleaming in the moonlight.

“And what would you do if I were to hand her over? Sell her on the black market?” he said incredulously, “I’m sure you see where I’m going with this, she couldn’t possibly be safe with you.”

“Considering I need her alive and in good condition, she most certainly will be. She needs to return to her father, and I’m the only one who can do that.” The young man narrowed his eyes behind his domino mask and quickly glanced behind him to look at the girl. Her eyes perked up at the mention of going back home with her family.

His shoulders sagged, “Fine, but I’m not leaving you alone with her. So, lead the way.”

Slade contemplated knocking him out and just taking the girl and leave, however, he didn’t want to spend all the energy it’d take to calm a girl screaming bloody murder as he throws the body off the roof. Besides, he had to leave immediately otherwise the men in the building would find out Vanessa was missing and cause more trouble.

Against his better judgement, he left with the girl and the young man in tow.

xXx

And boy, did the guy annoy the hell out of Slade.

Nightwing, Slade learned, enjoyed getting a rise of out Slade. They were in a jet, provided by the US government, sitting in the cockpit where Nightwing was tempted to press all the different shiny buttons, knobs and switches.

“Ooh, what does this do?”

“That turns on lateral navigation mode.”

“What about this one?”

“Auto break controls.”

“And this one?”

“Would you stop talking? _Please_,” Slade gritted, peering over Nightwing’s should only to find the little girl just as mesmerized by the complex controls of the aircraft.

Nightwing just laughed.

“Do you constantly sweat under all that armor?”

“That would imply I’d sweat in the first place. My armor regulates my temperature depending on what conditions I’m in. If I’m in a place that’s hot, it keeps me cool. If it was cold, it’d keep me warm.” Slade was proud of his armor; it was made of Kevlar and sturdy metal that kept him protected from most bullets and explosions. It was black on one side and orange on the other, hugging his body like a second skin and giving him the range of movement to be able to perform his best in hand-to-hand combat. His mask had the same color scheme going on with one single eye cut out on the left and a few grooves to allow him to speak clearly.

“Is that mask really necessary?” Again, with the constant questions.

Slade rolled his single eye, “is your mask really necessary?”

“Hey! That’s different. Yours covers your entire face, mine only covers my eyes,” the vigilante crossed his arms with a slight pout.

“I don’t see the difference, they both provide the same function; to hide our identity,” Slade grabbed the yoke and pressed a few buttons and prepared to land.

“Nah, I think you’re just making excuses. You must be ugly underneath,” Nightwing laughed while Vanessa hid behind her little hand, mirth dancing in her eyes.

After the President and his daughter reunited and Slade was paid for his efforts, he thought it would be the last time he’d see Nightwing.

xXx

Oh, how he was wrong.

A couple months later, Slade opened the door to his base only to find Nightwing lounging around on his couch eating cereal and watching television. “Hey big guy!”

No matter how many times the man kicked the vigilante out kicking and screaming, he always returned the following day. It went from helping himself to food in the refrigerator to using the shower and sleeping on his bed in _Slade’s clothes_. Not that it wasn’t a pleasant sight for the older man, but it was the principle that his base shouldn’t be invaded by unwanted visitors.

One day, Slade returned home after a long week doing an undercover job that ended with a lot of bloodshed and him being hunched over in a tight position for half a day. All he wanted to do was shower, relax and drink a little alcohol, but of course, it couldn’t be that easy.

Nightwing was on his couch, yet again, watching television in Slade’s clothes, _yet again_, but this time drinking his alcohol. The alcohol the older man was looking forward to binging.

Slade growled, launching himself at the boy.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah!” Nightwing held his hands up in surrender, still clutching the bottle.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing drinking _my_ stuff?” Slade stalked towards the boy while the latter slowly moved backwards, circling the couch.

“Well, you see, you were gone for like a week. So, I got bored, and I snooped around- hey! Watch the face, it wasn’t like that, per se. I just got a little curious, and there was a cabinet that was locked, and I was like ‘hey what’s in here that’s so important he’d put a little lock on it?’ So, I unlocked it, and I kinda sorta not so really, drank like... _allofthebottlesofalcoholyouhad_,” Nightwing rambled, his face flush as he quickly avoided Slade’s gaze.

“You did what?!”

“Relax,” he moved his hands in a placating motion, “it’s not like it’s gone forever! You can buy more! And share some with me, of course.”

“You think you’re so cute— “

“More like, hot, but continue.”

“—but I’m going to enjoy knocking every single tooth out of that pretty smile of yours.”

Nightwing yelped as he dodged a punch and ran to the kitchen to grab a pot. “Watch out, big guy, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Oh, you aren’t going to hurt me, _you’re_ going to be the one with bruises,” Slade leered.

“Aw, come on! Just forgive me, please,” the young man pouted.

“I’d much rather beat you black and blue, it’d go well with your vigilante outfit.”

“Okay that’s cute, but also incredibly painful, so I’ll pass,” Nightwing evaded a kick. “Can we just talk it out? Listen, I’m sorry I raided your booze, but there’s still some left if you want it. Hell, we could be drunk together! Wouldn’t that be cool!”

“Half a bottle won’t get me anywhere near drunk as you, lightweight,” Slade swiftly kicked the boy’s thigh, grabbing the pot from his hand.

“Fuck, that hurt,” the vigilante wheezed, “there has to be something that’ll cheer you up.”

“There is, it’d be fulfilled if you’d just stop running away, little bird.”

“As if I’d do that.”

“Too bad,” he lunged for Nightwing’s arm and pinned it behind his back and pushed him on the couch face first.

“Heh, this position is kinda risqué.” He squirmed around in his hold causing his backside to brush up against Slade’s groin.

“Keep that up and you won’t like where that leads.”

Nightwing barked a laugh, “I’ll have you know; I won’t mind one bit.”

There was something about the younger man that was simply tempting. Maybe it was the way he was carefree around the mercenary, Slade didn’t know, but what he did know was he wanted to be fully inside him.

“Fucking hell,” Nightwing wrung his arms free, turned around, and removed his domino mask. “Take your fucking mask off and kiss me before I die via boner.”

Slade obliged and explored every nook and cranny of the young man’s mouth. He wrapped his arms around his torso, pushing Nightwing flush against him and rolled his hips, connecting their groins, eliciting a moan out of the vigilante.

“I swear if this doesn’t end with me thoroughly fucked, I’m rioting,” Nightwing moaned as Slade trailed kisses down his neck, removing him of his shirt. Nothing about this was slow. This was rushed and desperate; their hands left no part untouched.

Slade lifted the boy off the couch, strong legs clung around his waist.

Eventually, they made it to the bed and all Slade could remember was soft yet strong hands gripping him, while his erect member was inside of a warm and tight heat. Dark hair splayed against the mattress while the young man’s face was contorted in pure pleasure, eyes clenched shut as his body writhed. He grabbed Nightwing’s cock and pumped it at the same rhythm he plowed into him. His dark blue eyes, riddled with lust, widened as he released his seed across his stomach, and that alone was enough for Slade to come apart.

“Dick,” the vigilante said, trying to catch his breath.

“Excuse you?”

The man turned his hand to look at the mercenary, “My name. It’s Dick.”

Slade had an intoxicating view of the other man, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow against his slick body; his eyes were ladened with uncertainty.

“Slade.”

xXx

In hindsight, that night never should have happened because once he had a taste, he took every ample opportunity to recreate that night, and then some. Over the course of a year, they began truly enjoying each other’s company to the point where Dick made it his mission to unofficially move everything he owns into Slade’s base. The bathroom was ransacked, and the products replaced with Dick’s hair gel, coconut-scented shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Slade’s singular comb was exchanged for Dick’s five bird-shaped combs. The only thing left of Slade’s things were his razor.

His bedroom mostly consisted of Dick’s clothes, and if Slade were to seek out his own, the young man would’ve been found already wearing it. Not to mention the bed itself, it smelled just like the boy. It was as if he rubbed his entire body on the sheets and pillows as if marking it as his territory like a housecat.

Whenever Slade went outside in civilian clothing, Dick always tagged along, often disturbed his meetings with other mercenaries and villains. Then when it was over, he’d complain about his line of work not being on the right side of justice. Even if Slade took jobs Dick deemed as righteous, the vigilante would invite himself and nearly get themselves killed for the sake of not wanting to risk taking a life, no matter how morally corrupt their opponents were.

Dick could be a great asset in most cases, but in other’s he was the bane of the mercenary’s existence.

Slade recalled an undercover mission he accepted from an own of a conglomerate, Lex Luthor, to retrieve a device from Ra’s al Ghul’s daughter, Talia. They were on a Valentine’s cruise in the Mediterranean on a lavish ship full of wealthy people deriving from old money. It should have been an easy enough mission; talk to Talia, spot the device, and sneakily take it off her person and leave the cruise.

For Slade’s plan to work, he’d have to buy Talia drinks and flirt with her. This, of course, greatly upset the young man. He hated seeing the older man flash his sinfully sexy smile at anyone that wasn’t him. The way his hands danced across her skin like smooth velvet. He couldn’t stand Slade purring in her ear about how he wanted to do naughty things to her, as his other hand wrapped around her waist.

It nearly sent Dick haywire.

Slade got the device and completed the mission, but not before getting an earful about how he should never accept another job that required such intimate levels of seduction.

Dick made sure he understood that the villain could only look at him with those eyes, touch him with those hands, and say suggestive things like that to him. Slade was his and he was Slade’s. It was as simple as that. If the man wanted to have his cake, he sure as hell couldn’t eat it too.

Unless that cake was Dick’s ass.

He made it a point to remind Slade who he belonged to even at the cost of tiring the older man after hours upon hours of hot, kinky sex; and boy, was it _extremely_ effective.

One of Slade’s favorite memories were when they went out on their very first date in a karaoke bar in Arkham. It was at the time where most of the citizens were checking out for the night, wearing comfortable clothing for the Fall weather. The bar was dimly lit, the patrons were getting lively from the alcohol and the people putting on a show, attempting to sing the choice songs.

Slade bought each of them a drink and Dick got some liquid confidence to volunteer on stage to sing some karaoke.

The beat started off slow and it allowed Dick to slowly sway his hips while locking eye contact with his lover. He brought the microphone up to his lips and began to softly sing.

“_Blue jeans, white shirt. Walked into the room you know you make my eyes burn._

_It was like James Dean, for sure. You so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer.”_

Slade couldn’t take his eyes away from the vigilante. The way he looked at Slade as if he was the only person in the entire building unlocked something within the man. It took an entire year for him to understand that Dick wasn’t someone that was supposed to be temporary in life, and that scared him.

_“You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop, but you fit me better than my favorite sweater._

_And I know that love is mean, and love hurts, but I still remember that day we met in December, oh baby.”_

Since meeting the boy, Slade has smiled more in one day than he has in the last several decades combined. He was no longer alone in the world, he finally had someone who wanted all of him, faults and all. Dick wasn’t the type of person to give up on someone. If Slade ever pissed him off, he would take a few minutes to himself and then seek out the mercenary to fix whatever issues they were having. No matter how stubborn he wanted to be, Dick was always patient and reminded him that he wasn’t going anywhere.

_“I will love you ‘til the end of time, I would wait a million years._

_Promise you’ll remember that you’re mine. Baby can’t you see through the tears?”_

Slade was stuck with Dick.

_“Love you more than those bitches before. Say you’ll remember, oh baby, say you’ll remember oh baby ooh_

_I will love you ‘til the end of time.”_

And he was perfectly fine with it.

xXx

Slade must have done something terrible in his life and his previous lives to get what came to him. Slade and his little bird just finished breaking into LexCorp and stole data regarding technology that was suspected to be sold on the dark web for millions in the coming weeks. They were on their way home when out of nowhere, vines latched onto their legs and toxins were emitted in the air, knocking them unconscious.

When Slade woke up, he was confined inside a force field shaped box. In front of him, Dick was held above ground with chains attached to his wrists and ankles, his dead lolled to the side.

Before reacting, Slade surveyed the area around him. The room was spacious and tall with white tiles for flooring and for the walls. There was an area full of people dressed in white lab suits and goggles behind a glass wall typing on computers.

“Hgnh,” Dick grunted, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He tried moving his arms, only to see it was bound. “What the—"

“Finally awake? Goodie!” a deranged laugh came from the speakers on the ceiling. A giant screen behind Slade displayed a disfigured face with a chalky white face and overdrawn red lips.

“What is the meaning of this, Joker?” Slade seethed while being completely aware that Dick and he were removed from their usual attire and were donning what looked to be psychiatric clothing.

“Well, ya see, I was in Gotham the other day and I ran into my old pal, Batsy,” he smiled as he fiddled with a knife in his hand, “we were having a great time, me and Harley. In fact, it was a date! I can be a real charmer when I want to.”

Dick peered down at Slade, giving him a confused look and then focused his attention back on the Joker.

“A bank robbery with half the hostages dead, absolutely magnificent! But then Batsy cut my fun in half and took away my date. It’s not fair! He gave too much attention to Harley. _I’m the one he should be focusing on!_” Joker complained. “Now with you here, we’ll finally get to play again!”

“What do you mean by play?” Dick questioned.

“Just watch and _find out_” Joker sing-songed and slammed a button.

The chains around the vigilante’s limbs slowly began to spread apart. Dick and Slade immediately knew what was going to happen, and it surely won’t be pretty.

“Joker stop it this instance! This isn’t funny,” Slade flexed his body in the tight box willing himself to break the force field, but to no avail.

“Of course it’s funny, don’t you see me laughing. Ooh, what I’m missing is some popcorn, be right back! Don’t have fun without me,” Joker laughed and skipped his way out of view.

Slade looked at his young lover with determination in his eyes. They were going to get out of here in one piece and beat the living daylights out of the sociopath, he just had to find a way to escape first.

“Slade…”

“Don’t even start that sentence,” Slade’s voice was clipped, and he frantically looked around the room for a way to free himself.

The chains continued pulling at Dick’s limbs and he grew increasingly uncomfortable. “But you know there’s no way out of this…”

“Not with that attitude.”

Dick gave Slade a teary-eyed smile, “Looks like this is it for me, old man.” He sniffed and looked at the restraints on his wrists.

Slade told him, “No! This is not it. There has to be a way out... there has to be...” he trailed off.

“Well, if I don’t make it… just know that Slade… I love you so much. God, I love you so much… I wish I at least had a few more years with you, creating new memories and all. I guess the only thing I’m going to be missing is that proposal you always promised me,” Dick chuckled.

Slade looked at him in complete agony. He hated feeling is useless, being held in an impenetrable force field. His throat constricted as the chains never stopped pulling.

“Buying our own home… having kids… that long and promising future—" Dick choked on a sob. The more and more his wrists are being ripped apart, the more pain he’s feeling, but he swallowed a groan of pain. “J-just know, Slade, I don’t ever regret being with you. Slade, you don’t understand how important you are to me. I-I want you to be safe. I need you to be safe. Please make it out of here. Please, for me.” Dick let’s out a piercing scream as his arms started to rip apart at the tendons and muscles.

“NO! I can’t lose you! Anyone but you! Please!” Slade yelled, kicked and punched at the force field, trying to push his body against it, hoping to at least get a little closer to his little bird, but to no such luck.

“Ooh, made it back just in time for the best part!” Joker cackled, obnoxiously munching on his popcorn.

The chains against Dick’s ankles began to pull, quickly dislocating the young man’s ankles, then tore off his legs. Three spinning blades came into view, horizontally slicing his torso open. Blood was everywhere, and the vigilante was long dead, however, the mutilation wasn’t done yet.

Blood splattered against the force field that kept Slade locked up.

Slade couldn’t take it. Why must he be forced to see this. There was no greater death like watching the only beacon of hope in your life, being snatched away from you, leaving a broken corpse. Dick’s body finally fell, the restraints no longer having anything to hold on to. His dismembered corpse landed, Dick’s eyes looking directly at Slade, completely and utterly lifeless.

A giant door opened and out came a large, sharp knife making its way in a straight line towards Dick. It stopped once it was lined up perfectly between his chin and collarbone. It was aiming for his neck.

Tears poured out of Slade’s single eye. The knife swiftly cut through the air and decapitated Dick, his dead rolling until Slade could no longer see his face.

Slade was there in the cage for hours, his sobs never once stopping as he took in his deceased lover. He couldn’t help but torture himself as he looked at everything that monster did to the only person of great importance to him.

He wasn’t even aware what was going on around him anymore, and quite frankly, he didn’t give a damn. Suddenly, the force field disappeared, and he quickly shuffled on the floor towards Dick’s disfigured body, holding it against him. His white clothes were stained with the young man’s blood, he tears never once stopped. He yelled at the ceiling, asking why? Why must this happen? Slade hasn’t done anything to deserve this, in fact, he’s been a better person because of Dick. Now his happiness and taken away from him.

Slade looked around and saw an exit right behind him. He carefully picked up each piece of Dick with shaky hands, and slowly made his way outside on the way back to what use to be his and Dick’s home.

Slade quickly put Dick’s body parts in the refrigerator to preserve it.

This wasn’t the end.

This would never be the end.

Hell would soon freeze over before Slade ever accepted living life without his little bird right beside him.

He’s going to bring him back if it was the last thing he’d ever do.


End file.
